


You're The Woooorst~!

by starrylitme



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Caretaking, Emotional Baggage, M/M, Sick Character, Sickfic, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26105128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylitme/pseuds/starrylitme
Summary: Even worse was that he got violently ill in front of Ouma, of all fucking people.That wasn’t the worst day of his life. That was the worst night of his life. Because, as it turned out, when he woke up, he was still violently ill.“Morn-ing-star-shine!”And Ouma was, of course, the one to know about it, showing up in his damn room unannounced.
Relationships: Momota Kaito/Oma Kokichi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 114





	You're The Woooorst~!

**Author's Note:**

> Friend's playing through v3 for the first time and so I've been thinking of these two again. I wanted to write something short and sweet...but you know how these two can be. Uhuhu.

This was shaping up to be one of the worst days of his life. First, that bastard Shinguuji insisted on telling ghost stories, which freaked him out so much that he had to escape before he got violently ill. Which he did. But even worse was that he got violently ill in front of Ouma, of all _fucking_ people.

That wasn’t the worst day of his life. That was the worst night of his life. Because, as it turned out, when he woke up, he was still violently ill.

“Morn-ing-star-shine!”

And Ouma was, of course, the one to know about it, showing up in his damn room unannounced, with a towel, a bucket full of water, and a puke bag. He must’ve picked the lock because Kaito is damn sure that he locked the door last night.

“Oh, wow, you look great for a sick man on death’s door! Juuuust kidding! Nishishishi! You look awful! Absolutely awful!”

Kaito groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes and wishing for a meteor to crash into his room right now. Preferably where Ouma was standing. Although Ouma skipped closer, cheeky grin splitting his face before he shoved Kaito down onto the bed.

“Didn’t your grandma ever tell you to take it easy when you’re sick?” he sing-songs. “You’re going to fall into your grave before ever taking a single step on the moon! And I’ll be sooooo sad, Momota-chan!”

Kaito growled at him, but he imagined that being in a lame cold sweat and having watery eyes decimated the effect any kind of glare would have.

“Do you really have to be here?” he snapped. “Or does seeing a guy sick get you off?”

“How’d you know?” Ouma asked, batting his eyelashes coyly before gagging. “As if! Even if I were into that, you look like a dog, especially with that goatee of yours.”

“Don’t knock the goatee!” His voice raised to a rasp. “And get the hell out! You’re the last face I need to see right now!”

“Can you even see with eyes that teary?” Ouma retorted, flicking his nose. Before Kaito could attempt to yell, Ouma scrubbed his face with the towel, not even bothering to be gentle, the _asshole_. “Besides, I’ll have you know I’m here out of the goodness of my heart.”

Kaito would’ve sputtered either way because of the towel rubbing against his mouth.

“That’s the worst lie I’ve ever heard you told.”

“It’s true,” Ouma insisted, soaking the towel and wringing the water out. “We both know you’re such a prideful fucker that no one else is aware of the fact that you’re as delicate as a flower, Momota-chan.”

“Fuck you!”

“And as a result.” Ouma tutted at him. “You planned on just sweating it out alone in your room rather than asking for anyone’s help. Which, truth be told, is so stupid I don’t even know how to comprehend it. Seriously, Momota-chan. That’s so miserable, it brings a tear to the eye! Boo-hoo!”

“So, _what_?” Kaito demanded. “What kind of guy would I be if I put that kind of burden on everyone?”

Ouma wiped down his face again. He was even rougher than the last time.

“Ow, ow, ow! S-Seriously, knock that shit off!”

“You knock shit off,” Ouma retorted, pulling on his beard and hopping away before Kaito could shove him off. “You’re an even bigger bullshitter than I am if you seriously believe that.”

“Urgh.” Kaito rolled his eyes and covered his head with his pillow. “I don’t have to hear this.”

He still heard Ouma shuffling about. Soaking the towel and wringing out the water again. Ouma letting out an annoyed little huff.

“Hey.” There’s a harsh jab into his side, making him jump. “Does your stomach hurt?”

“Fuck _off_!”

“Not an answer,” Ouma said, unimpressed. He shrugged. “But given that you’re not bitching about it, I guess it’s fine for now.”

Kaito grumbled and glared at him.

“You’re lucky I feel too much like shit to kick your ass.”

Ouma scoffed, heading into the bathroom and turning on the sink.

“And I was so worried about you!” he exclaimed over the running water, faking a sob. “Oh, Momota-chan, you had me worried sick! I thought you might die again! I can’t go through that a second time, I just can’t!”

Ouma came back, an expression like stone and a cup of water in his hand. Rather robotically, he handed it over.

“Drink. Or else I’ll tell everyone about your little display last night.”

“Are you blackmailing me?!”

Ouma’s lips twitched at the corner.

“I would never.”

Scowling, Kaito snatched the cup and downed the water, glowering down at the other challengingly. Ouma remained stoic.

“What?” Kaito had the childish desire to throw the empty cup at him but refrained. A real man kept his cool, even with annoying shits like Ouma around. “If you got something to say, say it.”

“Don’t you get exhausted talking so much?” Ouma cocked an eyebrow. “You’re sick. You should conserve your energy.”

Kaito snarled at him but bit his tongue.

_He’s riling me up on purpose. Well. I’m not gonna fall for it anymore._

To prove his internal point, he turned away with a huff, nose upturned. Ouma’s stare on him remained, feeling almost uncomfortable, but Kaito let that wash over him like water. If he couldn’t deal with weird looks from a brat, what kind of luminary did that make him?

_A shameless kid like Ouma wouldn’t get that. He’s too—immature. Naïve._

It wasn’t like Ouma was a bad person. Malicious, mean-spirited, and a fucking asshole, absolutely. But not a bad person. Just a brat who sucked ass at connecting with other people.

Kaito wasn’t that stupid. He knew that Ouma was here right now because he was worried. It was more than irritating—the reason why he kept his weird illness a secret was because he didn’t want people to worry, but Ouma was the kind of kid all the more excited when told no. All about butting his head where it didn’t belong, even when it resulted in burdens that no one should have to carry.

Ouma’s existence was so exhausting that Kaito didn’t understand how the kid could have so much energy despite living the way he did. Seriously.

_Maybe that’s admirable in its own way?_

He wasn’t sure, but he was tired. And dizzy. And nursing a headache. Oh, that was probably the sickness again. Great. Fucking great.

Kaito fell back with a sigh, crumbling the cup in his hand. The loud crackling of plastic just felt like mockery. It made his headache even worse.

“Urgh... This sucks... It sucks so bad.”

Ouma just takes the broken cup from him, probably to toss. How responsible. Too bad Kaito’s eyes were so watery that it was difficult to see now. Ouma just looked like a blob of purple of white. Kinda funny if not for the fact that his eyes stung, leaving him cursing as he furtively tried wiping them off.

The wet washcloth is pressed against his face again, but this time it’s cold, and before Kaito can protest, it’s thrown over his eyes.

“They were getting so swollen they looked fit to burst,” Ouma said, remarkably cool with even a calm click of the tongue. “Not a lie. If your eyes did burst into bits, that would be pretty horrifying.”

“Horrifying?” Kaito echoed before snorting. “It’d be a tragedy. I’d never be able to see the stars again if that happened. Everything would just be dark forever.”

“A nightmare for a luminary,” Ouma murmured. He flicked Kaito’s nose, making him gripe and flail at nothing but the air. “Did you know, Momota-chan? You’re so dim-witted that your vision already is super dark.”

“Oi! That’s uncalled for and untrue!” Momota does push himself up. It causes a bit of a rush that nearly knocks himself senseless, but he manages to keep his body upright as he lunges for that splotch of white. He ends up tumbling out of the bed, hitting the ground harshly and with nothing in his grasp. “Urgh... Ow...”

“See?” Ouma asks airily. “You’re so stuuuuupid, Momota-chan.”

Momota lets out a pained groan, but Ouma’s standing in front of him. Ouma, who grabs the back of his shirt collar. He hears the threads protest and tear and Ouma yanks.

“Dense, dumb, dull,” Ouma scoffs and drops him. He hadn’t been able to lift him much, so it didn’t hurt, but it was still irritating. “I swear. It’s sickening. Get back into bed, idiot. Unless you want to die here? If you do, don’t worry. I’ll lie to the others and say that I killed you. Spare you the embarrassment. Of course...” There’s a grin in his voice, but the laugher afterward... “Saihara-chan’s still gonna figure it out. Nishishishi.”

It doesn’t sound joyful at all.

Ouma’s really just that annoyed with him.

That’s a real joke if Kaito’s ever thought of one, so his chuckle is a lot more sincere. He tastes blood, and it’s still funny.

“What?” Ouma sounds real unimpressed now. “Have you lost your mind?”

He snorts. “Everything’s, uh, spinning a lot. Spiraling. Like satellites around masses.”

“Come on.” Ouma grabs him properly. “Get back to bed before you spiral out of control.”

“Hahah...” He does manage to pull himself to his feet with Ouma’s help, even as he sways a little. “So no-nonsense. You’re sounding less like your usual shitty self, Ouma.”

“Actually, I’m nobody. Nobody you know. Nobody you care about. Nobody at all.”

“Nobody, huh? Then...it’s fine.”

When he falls back into bed, his fingers curl tightly into Ouma’s ragged white shirt and he digs in. Ouma gasps sharply, falling with him. Another thud. Kaito’s head hurts, and when he comes to, he feels Ouma’s arm close to his scalp, Ouma’s knee by his hip, and Ouma’s harsh exhale of breath.

“...what the hell is this? What are you playing at, Momota-chan?”

He can’t answer when it hurts too much to think.

“You’re awful. Just the worst. The absolute worst.” And yet, Ouma does lean in. That liar presses his open mouth to Kaito’s cheek, lips pursing damply against his skin before murmuring into his ear. “You’re also delirious.”

At that point, Kaito just didn’t want to think so he let his eyes fall.

“This is the worst,” he heard Ouma lament just before he fell completely and utterly out of it.

He wakes up later in an empty room, head a bit clearer. He blinks once at the ceiling. Twice. There’s a wet washcloth folded upon his forehead. It’s long since gone a bit lukewarm.

_Wait. What the **actual** hell was that?_


End file.
